


Open Book

by tracy7307



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 02:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracy7307/pseuds/tracy7307
Summary: When Steve was fifteen, he received a parchment, just like every fifteen-year-old did. It was about the size of a half a sheet of notebook paper, and he knew that if he pressed an inky thumbprint to it, it would reveal one simple word that would be associated heavily with his soulmate -- sometimes it was a name, sometimes an eye color, sometimes an important object to that person, or the first word they’d say to you. Sometimes there was no word at all, for those who were meant to be happiest with no romantic partner.“Here goes nothin,” he said, and pressed his inked thumb to the parchment. His stomach swooped low and nervous as he waited for the word to form, terrified for several seconds that it might actually remain blank, but then a word appeared in faint ink and grew darker, eventually turned vivid and black in front of him.CAMARO





	Open Book

When Steve was fifteen, he received a parchment, just like every fifteen-year-old did. It was about the size of a half a sheet of notebook paper, and he knew that if he pressed an inky thumbprint to it, it would reveal one simple word that would be associated heavily with his soulmate -- sometimes it was a name, sometimes an eye color, sometimes an important object to that person, or the first word they’d say to you. Sometimes there was no word at all, for those who were meant to be happiest with no romantic partner. 

Whatever the word was, the holder would know immediately the person to whom it was referring. 

And there was also the (sometimes inconvenient) fact that most everyone, after they revealed their word, found their attraction to their soulmate heightened after every single encounter. 

Steve never bothered thumbprinting. Some part of him felt he’d find his soulmate and just _know_ , then after years of marriage, he’d thumbprint just to reveal he was correct the entire time. Nancy had done hers near Christmas of ‘83, and when she pulled back her thumb, the word **_BAT_** appeared in black cursive letters, so Steve had naturally assumed that it was a reference to him -- how he’d battled a demogorgon with the bat, twirling it and knowing this weapon suited him well. Turns out it meant the person who _made_ the bat -- of course her attraction on Jonathan grew after the reveal, and that was the end of that. Nancy and Steve were never meant to be.

So on this sweltering day late in June with humidity clinging to the air, Steve sat at his desk, comfortable in the air conditioning, his parchment clasped in his fingers. He thought about how after graduation most of his friends had fallen away and he was left with hardly anyone, just Henderson and a blossoming friendship with Billy. Mostly he was happy to continue on and try his best in the world, but in this moment, he felt just a little _low_. 

He felt like everything had faded with high school -- having attention and friends. Feeling cool, even though he wasn’t particularly smart. He thought about his current path -- about how casually he walked through life, everyone friendly to him and he was friendly back, but mostly his congenial exchanges felt empty. Hollow. Meaningless dates and awkward fumbling after a movie. He _lacked_ a long-term goal in his life -- aimless, working at an ice cream parlour, living in his parents’ house with no further education or prospects in front of him. He felt _lost_. 

There was one thing he could do, though. He could _thumbprint_ and maybe it would help guide him. Maybe he’d feel less alone in the world if he could at least _know_ this one inevitability in his future. 

He set down the parchment and snapped a cheap ballpoint open, pulling out the tube of ink. Carefully he twisted away the ballpoint tip from the tube and tapped the open end to his thumb a few times before setting it on a napkin. 

“Here goes nothin,” he said, and pressed his inked thumb to the parchment. His stomach swooped low and nervous as he waited for the word to form, terrified for several seconds that it might actually remain blank, but then a word appeared in faint ink and grew darker, eventually turned vivid and black in front of him. 

**_CAMARO_ **

Steve’s heart hammered in his chest as he thought of every encounter he’d had with Billy -- how _hard_ Billy had come at him in the beginning and how he softened up and acted cool now, but tense, always tense in his words and actions, tight in his smiles. Steve remembered Billy’s lingering gazes, how he’d lick his lips and look Steve up and down and _sneer_ at him. Even if that sneering was friendly now, it still dripped with honey and lewdness, but Steve just figured _that’s how Billy is. Fucking, crude as fuck, always._

He glanced at the alarm clock -- 12:30pm. Billy would be here within an hour with hamburgers and fries to hang out by the pool until the heat became unbearable, then they’d come into the air conditioning and watch _Bachelor Party_ that Steve had rented, and eventually Steve was gonna make them hot dogs and corn on the cob for dinner -- he’d already stopped at the store. 

It was this whole plan they’d arranged last night on the phone, somehow daydreaming their entire day together the previous night and now that Steve thought about it -- jesus, yeah, all of this plan-fantasizing _was_ a little suspect.

Steve scrambled to grab the receiver and punched in the Hargrove’s number. Luckily Billy answered right away because if Neil was home there was always a fifty-fifty shot on if he’d actually hand over the phone to Billy or say he was _incapacitated_ , which Steve learned had an uncomfortable other meaning. “Yello.” 

“Hey. It’s Steve -- glad I caught you before you left.” 

A few beats passed and Billy said low and gravelly, “Whatcha wearing pretty boy?”

“The _fuck_ is wrong with you.” 

“Just thinking about you on this hot day, is all. You gotta at least be shirtless, am I right?” 

“Ugh, jesus christ, Billy. Listen. My, uhm, air conditioning died and the repair guy can’t make it out until tomorrow, so, like, any chance we can meet up somewhere else today? Someplace with air?” 

“‘Kay. Do you wanna meet up at The Hawk, maybe? They have AC. We could watch _Fletch_ again.” 

Steve envisioned sitting in the back row by Billy in the darkened theater, their knees pressed together, legs spread apart and just _no_. “Nah, not again. How ‘bout the library?” 

“The -- the fuckin library?” 

“Yep. Library.” Cool, quiet, no real chance for talking. Perfection. “See you there in an hour?”

“Uhm.” 

“Awesome. Later.” Steve hung up before Billy could say another word. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face and thought for a moment -- let the panic in his chest settle a bit before he stood up and went to his dresser, carefully pulling out a pair of shorts because it was hot outside and these were cool -- definitely not because he’d been told by multiple girls that his ass looked _great_ in them. 

**~*~**

Steve wandered through the stacks, his mind racing. He looked at the spines of the books -- tried to remember what the Dewey Decimal System was. Tried to look over the titles of the same four books over and over, the words not synthesizing to make any type of sense to him. All he could think about was **_CAMARO_** and everything else felt like a haze. 

When footsteps came down that aisle, Steve didn’t turn to look -- just heard them stop right behind him and felt Billy’s presence at his back. He could smell cigarettes, Obsession cologne and a whiff of hairspray from where he stood. Funny -- he usually never noticed it, but now it seemed to smell heavier. 

Steve pulled a book from the shelf -- whichever one was nearest -- and turned around. “Sorry that we couldn’t meet at my place,” he said, and his eyes landed on Billy. 

He could feel his skin tingling all over and he’d _heard_ about this sensation from back in school when a couple of kids found their soulmates and that was the first physical sensation they described -- _your skin starts tingling and like won’t stop until you try and figure out a way to **touch** them, yknow? It just keeps getting worse._ In whispers, people called it _First Touch Trembles_. 

Steve thought the Trembles were probably an urban legend, or at the very least that it would differ from person to person, but in every moment that passed, his skin as if it were being _teased_. He rubbed his arm in what he hoped was an inconspicuous manner. 

“Library, huh,” Billy said, and plucked the book from Steve’s fingers. “Doing a little light reading? _Electrical Engineers Reference Book_ from 1954.” He cocked an eyebrow at Steve. 

“I. Uhm.” Steve backed up a step -- tried to ignore how every part of his being wanted to _touch_. He turned his focus toward the sound of the doors opening -- the smell of books around him, the hum of the microfiche machine in the distance, but his whole body seemed to be _singing_ for Billy. “Yeah, I mean, engineering. Thought I might brush up.” 

Billy stepped forward once and Steve stepped back. He flipped open the book and inside was a diagram of a train engine. “Mmm. Thinking of working on the railroad?” 

Steve stepped back again but he leaned forward -- couldn’t seem to help the movement. His eyes lowered as his face grew closer to Billy’s neck. “Maybe. I mean what else am I gonna do?” 

Billy leaned in and placed the book on the shelf over Steve’s shoulder, and the movement brought his face right next to Steve’s.

Steve inhaled sharply and his eyes fell closed. His skin was _on fire_. “Jesus,” he said as quietly as he could. 

“Steve?” Billy asked, his lips so close to Steve’s ear that they brushed it. 

Steve let loose a breathy whine, tried to make it soft, and then played it off like he was coughing. He felt like his entire body was vibrating. So, definitely the Trembles were a thing. “Yeah.” 

“Do you know what my parchment said when I thumbprinted?” His lips ghosted over Steve’s neck. 

Steve’s fingers reached forward a bit -- touched the seam of the denim on Billy’s hip -- lightly, so lightly. “No,” he breathed. 

“It said _BEEMER_.” Billy pressed one kiss to Steve’s neck, and Steve felt his dick harden in his shorts, probably tenting now, jesus fucking christ. 

“Yeah? Crazy. That’s -- yeah that’s something. Lots of Beemers out there in the world.” 

Billy turned his face and kissed the other side of Steve’s neck -- again, just once. “Did you thumbprint, Stevie? Is that why we’re here and not at your house?” 

Steve grew bolder and let his fingers drift up, under Billy’s tank top, and when his fingers touched skin Billy puffed a breath against Steve’s neck. “Yeah. I did.” 

Billy _licked_ up Steve’s neck. “What’d it say?” 

Steve ducked his head and caught Billy’s lips in a kiss, and suddenly his entire body felt like it was flashing the word _correct_ , like a thousand locks had just clicked open, like he could never imagine being without this ever again. He pulled back long enough to say, “ _CAMARO_ ,” and dove back in to claim Billy’s lips. 

Billy walked them back down the aisle toward the back of the library as they kissed, Billy’s hands reaching up to run his fingers through Steve’s hair, then turned and pressed Steve against the endcap facing a long wall of books. Steve glanced left and right, no one was back here, but then Billy tugged back on Steve’s hair, baring his neck and his lips were on Steve’s throat, kissing down, pressing against his Adam’s apple as his hands reaching down and dipped below the waistband. 

“We can’t -- not here,” Steve said. He didn’t believe his own words because Billy was already crouching down to his knees. 

Billy stopped touching him, kneeling in front of him with his mouth a few inches from Steve’s tented shorts, and Steve bit back a whine. “Tell me to stop, Stevie, and I will.” 

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop _ever_ , fuck, Billy,” Steve mumbled quietly. 

Billy began running his lips over the hard line of Steve’s dick and when he pulled Steve’s shorts down, he said, “Gonna be quiet for me, baby?” 

Steve reached down and cradled Billy by the back of his head -- slid his hand over Billy’s jaw and pressed his thumb to Billy’s lips. Billy licked the pad of Steve’s thumb and took it in his mouth, sucking it down and popping off wetly. “Yeah,” Steve said, mesmerized. “I’ll be quiet.” 

“Good.” And then Billy’s mouth was on his dick and took him down, down, almost to the hilt.

Steve had to bite his fist. 

Billy pulled back and started sucking the first few inches, using his hand to stroke the base, looking up at Steve from the floor with bright blue eyes. Steve pushed Billy’s bangs to the side and felt waves of sensation pressing against his skin, from one arm to his other, down his abodemen, over each leg and down to his toes and Steve knew it was because this was his _soulmate_. 

For a couple of quiet minutes Billy sucked Steve, his head bobbing, his chin getting wet, and then someone _turned the fucking corner_ three aisles over. Billy never let up though and worked Steve even harder, and the person turned around the endcap facing away from them and continued up the next aisle. Steve puffed a breath of relief and that’s when Billy sucked him down, down, until his forehead was against Steve’s belly and Steve felt the tension building in his groin, gave Billy a couple panicked taps to the shoulder but Billy remained in place as Steve started coming into Billy’s throat. 

Billy swallowed, then pulled back to place a kiss to the head of Steve’s dick before pulling his shorts back up as he got to his feet. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, and pulled Billy in for a kiss, tasted his own come in Billy’s mouth, and reached down to palm the bulge in Billy’s jeans. 

He took one more glance around and the coast looked clear so he got to his knees and popped open Billy’s fly. 

Billy wasn’t wearing underwear because _of course not,_ , and his cock bobbed out to meet him, hard and pretty and pink. 

Steve had never done this before, so he took a deep breath at the base of Billy’s cock -- smelled the heady scent of Billy’s skin and musk and of course the touch of Obsession there. He placed a kiss to the base of it. “Smelling nice for me today, huh?” 

Billy shrugged and reached to give his cock a stroke. “Wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling. Thought I’d be prepared.” 

When Steve got Billy’s cock in his mouth, figuring out a comfortable angle and pace, he heard the librarian’s voice booming from the other side of the building -- “Ten more minutes! Bring your selections up to the front of the building, please!” -- and Steve smiled around Billy’s dick, glanced up to see Billy looking down and looked fucking _wrecked_. Steve gave more pressure with his tongue and that was that -- Billy spilled into Steve’s mouth and Steve swallowed it down, a little hot and a little salty but all his soulmate. 

Steve rose to his knees as Billy tucked himself away and pulled him into an embrace -- buried his nose in Billy’s curls and felt contentment wash over him. Felt like even if he didn’t have the pieces put together yet, one of them just snapped into place. He might not have known his future yet, but this right here -- this was his heart, and he knew he’d be fine.

“Hey,” Billy said. “Wanna go back to your place now? Maybe eat hamburgers, sit out by the pool, and then maybe _Bachelor Party_?” 

Steve took Billy’s hand as the headed down the aisle, toward the front doors. “Sounds like a great plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tracy7307](https://tracy7307.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
